May 2020
I leave trails with tracks
Of ruby and slick
No way to go back
Across rivers of Styx
My mark being left
Through pine forest dale
Each lost drop of blood
With skin growing pale
Your words are like ticks
Your frowns become leeches
Each weakening pulse
On sangria beaches
The needles you carry
Take their own little *****
You've drained all my blood
And left me anemic
Of ruby and slick
No way to go back
Across rivers of Styx
My mark being left
Through pine forest dale
Each lost drop of blood
With skin growing pale
Your words are like ticks
Your frowns become leeches
Each weakening pulse
On sangria beaches
The needles you carry
Take their own little *****
You've drained all my blood
And left me anemic
Hi everyone! Sorry I've been out of the loop for the past two weeks. I have been working on tests and dealing with a lot of family/virus related issues. But I'm back and plan to keep the ink flowing. Sorry to come back with some sad poems, but that's how I usually make my entrance, unfortunately. Cheers, fellow poets!
